An Eye for Beauty
by LeBookworm
Summary: The Chairman always had an eye for beauty. His wife's part of the story. One-shot.


Just a story I thought of when reading Memoirs of a Geisha. If you think the wife is a bit condemning, just remember that she doesn't know Sayuri, or much about the life of a geisha.

One-Shot. But as with all my stories, it's a work in progress; if I reread it and feels that it needs to be edited. I will change it around, add to it, etc. 3

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.

* * *

Ken always had a weakness for beautiful women. As a young woman, I had been proud of my beauty. After all, I was beautiful enough to catch the eye Iwamura Ken; I was beautiful enough that he married me.

But I wasn't beautiful enough to keep him.

I won't say I felt love for him – affection, yes, pride, yes – but not quite love. And I will say he felt fond of me too, once. When we married, I thought myself fortunate enough to marry someone who was rich, handsome, kind, and who held affection for me. We were a perfect match; I was Kuni Harumi, cousin of the Empress, and he was Iwamura Ken, the son of the illustrious Iwamura family, and a rising star in the world of business.

We had two beautiful daughters: Michiru and Aiko. Good, common names, not ostentatious like those geisha names – Izuko, Mameha, Sayuri.

Oh, yes, I knew of the geisha. Did he think I wouldn't know? Where else, but Gion, would he spend his nights, his weekends? Men spoke of it reverently, and spoke of its women even more so. They spoke of how clever they were, how beautiful, how fun.

Of course, he came home occasionally, for a birthday or celebration; but even then, if no one was looking, he would look out the window toward Gion, and his eyes would become distant – dreaming of a world of women and laughter, a world of fantasy, a world I could never be a part of.

* * *

During the war, I heard Gion's geisha districts had been shut down; its women were forced into factories, or forced into hiding. At that time, when I should have felt fear, I felt happiness – Ken would be mine.

Of course, that was nothing but a fantasy. All during the war, he worked in his factories, he met with the government; he worked, worked, worked. In peace, I lost him to geisha; in war, I lost him to business.

But at least he came home when night fell; at least he shared my bed again. It was one of the happiest times of my life.

When the war ended, I waited for the inevitable. Gion had reopened, and I'd heard that even Americans were entertained there now. I thought of the sweethearts, fiancées, and wives of these men – did they feel as I felt? If so, then these women across the sea and I had more in common than I thought.

He left, as expected. He'd returned to Gion on business, he said. The Deputy Minister of Finance had the power to bring Iwamura Electric back to life. And the Minister had a weakness for geisha.

More nights he stayed away. He wasn't crude enough to regale me with stories of what had gone on, and I wasn't brave enough to ask. I didn't want to hear of what those women did and said; I didn't want to hear how I could never compare.

Instead, I asked him about business. Business, he said, required him to spend a weekend in Amami with the Minister and Nobu-san. I didn't need to ask to know that geisha were going as well. I thought about asking if our daughters and I could go, but such a question was foolish – especially when I knew what the answer would be.

* * *

He returned changed, somber and distant. The deal had gone well, he said. Iwamura Electric would prosper once again. All I could do was smile and welcome him home.

* * *

He acquired a mistress. I heard the name Sayuri whispered about; one of the most beautiful geisha, and an anomaly, even within her circle, because of her grey eyes. Of course, no one would have told me this, but wives have ways of knowing and hearing the news. I resigned myself to this fact, and I tried not to care. Afterall, _I _was his wife; she remained nothing but his mistress. Once he tired of her, as all men do, she would be discarded; and she would learn what it felt like to be forsaken.

* * *

I have seen her, you know. Not in person, never, but in a photograph. He carried her image with him, tucked safely away in his wallet. I had found it when I took his jacket; I'm his wife, he wouldn't have minded if I saw the photo when slipped out. It was quite frayed around the edges, as if it had been taken out and looked at many times.

She was beautiful, I will admit that. Tall and regal in her pale green kimono, her delicate, pale face peering at me with those gleaming eyes, those red lips gently smiling. Sayuri, it said on the bottom. I clutched at the photo, my hands shook, my vision blurred.

I wanted to burn that photo, and watch as her pale face became ash, watch those eyes as they died in the fire, and I wanted to destroy those smiling lips. Why should she have been able have happiness, to have him? Why?!

I heard footsteps. Quickly, I blinked away my tears and smoothed away the small creases my trembling fingers had created. I glanced up, and saw him staring at me. He looked down into my hands to see his wallet and the photo.

I smiled then, and handed them both to him. It slipped from your wallet, I said. He nodded and took them both away. I only saw his retreating back.

I looked down at my arms, his jacket draped over them. I took it into my arms, and buried my face in its folds – breathing in the smell of talc. I felt my legs collapsing as I held that jacket to my face, letting it hold my tears.

* * *

How dare she?! I do not mind anymore that she's my husband's mistress – that was my life. But how dare she ruin my daughter's future, her marriage?! Nishioka Minoru and Michiru were perfect for one another, _and_ they love each other. Furthermore, Ken had decided to make Minoru heir to Iwamura Electric!

Now Minoru has broken the engagement, all because of that woman. It had been rumored that she's given him a son. Why else would she stop entertaining in Gion? Why else would she be living in Kyoto, at that "Prosperous Truth Retreat" house he bought her? Would Ken really forgo his legitimate daughter for an illegitimate son?

It's enough that he takes that woman on his trips to America – our family has never gone there – but to steal happiness away from Michiru, his own daughter?

* * *

That woman left, taking her rumored son with her. There is no doubt my husband sent her away to protect Michiru's marriage, I was wrong to doubt him. Now she is gone, banished from Japan. Perhaps, now, my husband will share my bed again.

* * *

I never imagined it to be like this. Young girls are optimistic, and naive, enough to believe that they will be enough for their husbands.

I thought that my beauty would be enough to hold Ken's heart forever. I thought that our bond as husband and wife would make him mine, no matter what happened. I was wrong.

I never held his heart, it was all an illusion I had created to protect myself.

Ken never sent her away; she left willingly – to protect this family – even though she had had no son. He had set her up with her own teahouse in New York.

He told me all of this, and more, in his letter to me. It was one of the things to be given to me upon his death. Apparently, he felt I deserved to know.

He had fallen in love, he said, on a bridge in Gion. A child sat weeping, and he comforted her, buying her shaved ice. He had made sure she was found and taught to become a geisha. All so he that could be with her.

I never held his heart, I realize that now. It had always belonged to _her_.

Even when he was dying, he flew her back to Kyoto, so he could die in her arms – the rest of us could only stand around the bed while she tenderly cradled his head. Their eyes never left each other. When he died, she cried louder than anyone else.

Even in death, he protected this woman. He left her a trust that would pay for her expensive hotel room, her shopping bills, and all other fees that one could possibly think of. She would be kept for as long as she lived.

* * *

That was the first and only time I would meet her in person. Even aged, she was beautiful. Her skin, though slightly creased, was still pale, and her eyes still clear.

After the funeral, she returned to America. None of us ever met her again. Though occasionally, Minoru would complain about her expenses in America; geisha were quite extravagant creatures.

* * *

Even now, I still occasionally see pictures of Sayuri, from Uchida Kosaburo's paintings of her to postcards with her image on them. When I see them, I sigh and think, Ken always did have an eye for beauty.

* * *

So. Like? Don't like? Tell me about it.


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